Norma Egan - Naughty Lady

"I want it to be the most popular magazine in America," he said, "and that means having the top talent on my staff. There's going to be a lot of dead weight fired around that office. I don't want anybody who isn't giving one hundred per cent."

"I understand, Mr. Ray,". Linda said, giving him her best smile.

"I'm not sure you do understand, Linda," Ray said. "Are you sure that you've giving one hundred per cent?"

Linda went pale. She had plenty of enemies on the staff, and perhaps somebody had told Ray bad things about her. Perhaps he thought she was "dead weight" and was about to fire her. Linda felt close to panic.

"Mr. Ray," she said, "I've always done my best for 'Scene.' It's my career, the job of my dreams, and I work very hard for it."

Winston Ray smiled and suddenly his smile seemed ice cold, not sexy at all. "I'm sure you do work very hard-at the office," he said. "That wasn't what I meant. How hard are you willing to work to please me, Linda?"

Linda relaxed. It was the same old pitch-fuck me or lose your job. She could easily handle it. After all, she'd been selling her body for years. She leaned closer to Ray, letting him smell her exotic perfume and eye the deep cleavage of her big breasts. She pressed her knee against his.

"Mr. Ray," she purred, "I'd do anything in the world to please you, and I guarantee you'll be pleased."

"We'll see about that," Ray said with his cold smile, "Why don't you entertain me, Linda? Why don't you do a little dance for me?"

"Dance?" Linda said.

Ray reached over to the coffee table and pressed a button. Sensuous music filled the room. "Strip for me," he said. "Just give me my own private show."

Linda got to her feet shakily. She'd been asked to do a lot of strange things by men, but this was a first. She felt embarrassed and humiliated as she began to obey this man. Her whole future was in his hands.

Winston Ray leaned back and lit a cigar and watched her dance. "You're a very beautiful woman, Linda," he said, "but do you have Went? That's what we're going to find out. It takes a very talented girl to please me. I'm sure you know what I mean."

Linda kept a big fake smile plastered on her face as she kicked off her shoes and reached for the zipper of her dress. She tried to look perfectly at ease, but inwardly she was fighting a strong urge to kick Winston Ray in the teeth. Suddenly she hated the man, hated all the men who'd used her body.

Linda drew down the long zipper at the back of her dress, and the white gown floated to the floor. She stepped out of it wearing white lace bra and panties. Ray puffed on his cigar and watched her but didn't seem terribly impressed. Linda put more motion into her dance, swaying her hips enticingly.

"That's better," Ray said. "Give me a real show, Miss Senior Editor. Let's see if you're going to stay on that job."

Linda got the message all too clearly-please Ray or be fired. She made her dancing as sexy as possible as she reached around and unhooked her bra. She drew the little lacy garment away, and her big melon-shaped tits wobbled out, firm and thrusting, the light brown nipples dainty and soft.

"Very nice," Ray said. "Now let's see the rest of you."

Linda felt such loathing for the man that she could barely keep smiling. She hated the fact that her career was based on her body, not her talents. You're just a high-priced whore, she thought, nothing but a whore. Yet she kept swaying to the music, and she started to inch down her panties.

Ray followed her movements, his cool dark eyes glued to the soft mound of her crotch. Linda slowly lowered her panties down over the lovely little globes of her ass. She remembered Sally's words that morning: "You can shove your damned job." She wished she had the courage to say that to Ray, but she didn't. She was still the slave of her own ambitions.

Linda slipped her panties down over the glossy brown curls of her muff and let the little garment slither down her legs. She stepped out of it and stood before Ray utterly naked. She'd been naked in front of many men, but this time she felt totally humiliated.

"Don't stop," Ray said. "Keep dancing. Senior editor is a very important job, Linda. You really have to work hard for it."

Linda danced. Her slim but curvy hips swayed, and her big naked breasts wobbled and bounced. Winston Ray watched her with cool amusement, his eyes darting from her wobbling boobs to her pretty brown curl patch. Linda hated what she was doing, but she knew she was fighting for her career. "Bend more," Ray said. "Show me your pussy.

Linda blushed and fought the urge to run away. This man was obviously out to humiliate her. She danced closer to him, turned, and presented him with her pert little ass. She bent low and exposed the rich red flesh of her gash. She could have wept with shame as she gave the publisher a long unhindered look at her pussy.

"Now from the front," Ray commanded.

Linda spun around to face him, thrust her belly forward, and spread her legs. Again Ray studied the shining scarlet flesh of her pussy with its dainty fringe of brown curls. He could see everything, from her little red clit to the light brown wrinkle of her asshole.

"All right," he said, "that will do. There's certainly nothing wrong with your looks. Now I'll find out about your performance. Come over here and undress me."

Linda walked over and went to her knees before Winston Ray, removing his shoes and socks. She took off his tie and jacket and shirt. He wasn't wearing a t-shirt. His tan chest was lightly matted with light brown hairs. Linda put his clothes neatly aside and reached for his belt.

"Of course you've balled everybody on the staff?" Ray said with his cold smile. "No, you don't have to answer. I already know. You have quite a reputation, Linda. I just hope you're as good as they say."

Linda reddened with shame. There were plenty of men on the staff who could tell Ray all about her performance in bed. It hurt to know that they talked about her that way, that she had the reputation of being a promiscuous slut.

She unbuckled Ray's belt and unzipped his fly. She tugged his pants down and then removed his jockey shorts. His handsome pale cock was limp, resting on its brown and silver nest, and his rosy-red balls were wrinkled and flaccid.

"Suck me off," Ray ordered.

Linda wanted to scream at him that she'd never again humiliate herself for a man-but of course she knew she would. Sucking off a man she hated was a small price to pay for her career. Or was it? Linda tried not to think about it as she bent low over Ray's lap and eyed his milk-white blue-veined prick.

She picked up the droopy little cock and fed it slowly into her mouth, sliding it along her slick hot tongue, trapping it between her cheeks. She drew his limp meat all the way in, till his silver-furred balls touched her chin.

"Let's see how well you suck cock, baby," Ray said. "I can't have a girl on my staff if she doesn't give a good head job."

Linda was powerfully tempted to bite his dick, but she dutifully started sucking it, slowly and teasingly at first, then with growing speed and pressure. She didn't worry about her technique. After all these years she'd become an expert. She just hoped Ray agreed.

As Linda sucked hotly and loudly on his flaccid prick, Ray leaned backed against the couch and smiled his cold smile. He must have had hundreds of blow jobs, and he was probably comparing Linda's technique to the others. She sucked faster and harder on his soft warm prick, her saliva boiling around it.

"Not bad," Ray remarked. "But can you get me hard?"

Oh, God, Linda thought, one of those. Winston Ray was one of those jaded men, like Frank Brooks and Harrison White, who'd bought so much pleasure in their time that they couldn't respond to normal sex. They couldn't even get hard without a lot of kinky foreplay. Fortunately Linda was familiar with the type and knew just what to do.